Long May She Reign
by Fiji Mermaid
Summary: Anya was Queen. They called her the Leader, but she was Queen. Queen of the survivors, the grounders. Queen of this small tribe of humans that had been thrown into the fire centuries ago and emerged from the ashes to blaze a new beginning. The Queen of the Grounders faces a new threat to her existence in the emergence of the 100, most seriously in Bellamy Blake.


It had been 300 years since the war that ended humanity and civilization as the world had known it. Since then, no help had come from other planets or galaxies. They were truly alone in this entire existence.

It's a horrifying feeing, that. Knowing you're alone and no one is going to save you. The Queen knew it well.

The grounders could see the Ark floating above them at night. They'd always been able to see it. The emotions that the survivors on Earth felt towards those who were "risen" were complicated. There was sorrow at being left alone. Nothing from the Ark for 300 years. No communication, no help, no nothing. It was like living in a lab with God watching you from afar, doing nothing. Uncaring. Or Unknowing. It's hard to decide which is worse.

There, they imagined human kind to live in relative safety, never worrying about anything like where the next meal would come from, or if that meal would kill you thanks to radiation poisoning.

Anya, Queen of the Grounders, had studied the kings and queens and the political leaders of old. Leaders were all the same when you got down to it. Power corrupts. Those with absolute power are absolutely corrupted. Ever civilization in the history of Earth's past could testify to this.

Anya wasn't naïve; she knew she needed power but refused to let it blind her or make her think she had anything close to absolute rule. Life on this New Earth did not give one a second chance when it came to power. Kill or be killed. Adapt or die. Stop wondering what life could have been like if their ancestors hadn't been so fucking arrogant.

To damn an entire planet to total annihilation because of differences in belief boggles the mind. Anya didn't know if they would ever really understand what had happened and why. But she did know this: whoever had been in charge had seen the writing on the wall and chose to build an ark but only allowed the best and the brightest and their friends and families. Their modern day Noah had been careless and hasty in the building of the ark and there was not even close to enough room for everyone. The grounders didn't know this but it was a miracle that anyone had even survived up there for this long.

Late at night, when the sky was clear, Anya would gaze up at the Ark wondering what she would have done. What if she had been offered passage on the ship but it meant leaving her family behind? Would she have chosen to stay and deal with the consequences of others' actions? Would she have chosen to go, leaving her loved ones behind? She usually ended the debate by laughing at herself for pretending she knew what it was like to have loved ones. Sure, her people loved her as you do a Queen. From a distance and with a healthy dose of fear. This Earth was too dangerous to really love another, to give yourself to them completely and totally. To trust.

Her grounders been burned too many times by other tribes passing through. Things would be peaceful at first and then there would be challenges to her power and she would have to either kill, banish, or force the warring group to assimilate with her own. She preferred to kill them outright, she rarely allowed banishment.

Assimilation had been allowed on just one special occasion during Anya's rule. It had been a woman with near mystical healing powers and Anya's tribe urged her to invite the woman into their life. Anya had conceded and their lives had been a little easier from that decision. Most of her people were now schooled in the art of a more advanced healing than had been passed down previously. The change to her tribe had been immeasurable and brought them closer together and the dangers of the forest seemed to lessen a little.

The grounders had been in their third month with no major incidences, they were in what would have been called a time of peace and prosperity before the War. Anya had been watching the sky on a clear, summer dawn, when the 100's drop ship had appeared out of the sky, like a raging comet.

Anya's people wanted to go to the ship immediately out of curiosity, anger, fear. She urged them to stay put. There was no way of knowing what weapons this 100 would have. Besides, they were in a hostile, alien environment. She would give Earth a chance to knock them down a few pegs before showing up. Anya had no interest in being their savior.

She told her people to keep their distance and only act if these children came near the camp. Regretfully, there had been an incident early on when the children tried to cross the river. A boy had been stabbed and taken prisoner. Anya allowed his wounds to be taken care of but she left him to the elements otherwise. The children had snuck back and taken their comrade back to their camp. Anya didn't worry about them returning. She was sure her message had gotten across. There were a few deaths in the 100 camp and while not all of them could be blamed on the grounders, the general consensus seemed to be that the 100 were on the hunt for blood, theirs or anyone else's who got in their way.

Anya's guards sent out patrols and watched the camp all hours of the day. Their superior spying techniques meant that the 100 had no idea there were always eyes on them. Anya had her guards send patrols to not just protect her people, but also to protect the 100 in a way. They were ill equipped to deal with what the post-nuclear world had to offer, although most of the danger to the 100 seemed to come from themselves. Her guards reported numerous fights, courtesy of their leader, Bel Ami, as Anya heard his name.

A young girl had been injured after falling down a hill and had been rescued by her brother, Lincoln. Another member of the 100 camp had been injured, Bel Ami himself had rescued that boy.

Lincoln was then captured by the 100. In a surprising turn of events, Bel Ami's sister had rescued Lincoln, but only after Bel Ami and his guards had tortured him. Anya had been furious for having to allow the capture of her brother. She knew though, that had she intervened, there would never be an accord between the grounders and the 100.

The end of her silence came when her guards reported to her that Clarke the Medic and Bel Ami had found a bunker of some sort, with guns and ammunition. She sent Lincoln out to parley with the 100 and to insist upon a meeting between them.

Anya decided to meet Bel Ami dressed in her battle gear. She needed to impress the point upon them that she ruled the ground here. They were alive up to this point because of her grace and her grace only.

Anya rode her horse Aslaug to the camp behind the most valued warriors of her tribe. There was silence as she approached the 100's camp. Looking out at the crowd, Anya saw that some of the children were close to her age. But they looked so young, so frightened despite their bravado.

Anya was pleased to see that Bel Ami stood by himself in a semi-circle of his people. Anya thought a worthy leader should always stand by on one's own.

She took pity on Bel Ami and his people and removed her helmet. She dismounted Aslaug and handed the reigns to Lincoln. Letting her gaze sweep around the camp, Anya approached Bel Ami. She advanced until she stood a few feet away. He remained silent and Anya's eyes drank him in.

Taller than her by about a half a hand if they were both barefoot. Beautifully tanned skin. Curly brown hair. Faded bruises on his face. Dark brown eyes that held sorrow Anya wasn't expecting. A defiant stance. Anya knew that stance. She tried to avoid using it as often as she could. It spoke of weakness, of wishing to be something other than a leader.

"Hello, Bel Ami. I am Anya, Leader of the Grounders. I wish to be the first to welcome you to New Earth," she said smoothly.

"Hello," Bellamy replied stiffly. "Thank you," he said as an after thought.

"You must be wondering why I've decided to meet you and your people," Anya said.

His gaze shifted. "Yes. I was wondering _We_ were wondering, " he gestured to the camp.

"I've come to ask for a truce. Not an alliance, but a truce. There are dangers in the forest you can't imagine. You have weapons that will deter these dangers. I have knowledge that will keep you safe. Your ignorance is a danger to us and yourselves," Anya said, relishing the anger that flashed across Bellamy's face. "You are also a danger to the Ark, in more ways than one," Anya smiled.

Bellamy cocked an eyebrow at this. He glanced at Clarke the Medic who had a curious look on her face and nodded her head.

"Please, go on," Bellamy said with a slight smirk.

"Do you have somewhere more private we can talk?" Anya asked.

"Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of everyone," Bellamy said with a bit of bravo.

Anya rolled her eyes internally. "Children," she thought.

"Very well, Bel Ami" she continued, "To put it simply, you have guns. We do not. There are monsters in these woods that will soon migrate with the oncoming of winter. In order to ensure as few losses of life as possible, I suggest that we call a truce amongst our tribes so that we may all look forward to surviving the fall, let along the winter."

Anya gazed at Bellamy with a schooled neutral expression on her face. He seemed to be thinking.

"Okay, fine. Truce," he held out his hand.

Anya shook it, noting how large it was compared to hers and she was not a small woman.

"Truce," she agreed. "Now, can we go somewhere more private, your grace?"

Bellamy's lip quirked. "Sure thing. Anya," he said, testing her name in his mouth.

"That's Queen to you," one her guards piped up."

Bellamy cocked his head at this and smiled. He gestured to his tent. "After you, milady."


End file.
